


Unspoken Words of Sorrow

by FaeTyrantXVII, orphan_account



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 08:18:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19764226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeTyrantXVII/pseuds/FaeTyrantXVII, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It was just one of those late nights where sometimes all you need is a friend and a drink





	Unspoken Words of Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this with my darling @stillflamingred 💜

The lights inside of the room glowed an iridescent red, matching the person they belonged to. From the bedside, where Mikoto sat above the sheets, looking down at something he was twirling in his hand, it was clear he’d just put out a cigarette of his own with the slowly fading smoke that rose above them to the ceiling.

Izumo smiled as he walked over, holding both drinks in his hands, the ice clinking with each step. After crossing half of the room, his stomach churned a little at the fact that Mikoto hadn’t even looked up to acknowledge him, with a nod of his head or a tired smile like usual. Still, Mikoto was nothing if not an absolute enigma — and a person who liked to keep to himself. Over the years, Izumo has seen the decline in him. He’d always been quiet, reserved, but this was different. He wasn’t the same as he once was, who he was before he became king.

He’d wanted to say something before. He wanted to ask him how he was, if he was alright — but the words never really seemed to come out. Instead, they carried on their usual conversations, smoking and drinking, ignoring the fact that something was wrong. In the past few months, Mikoto had seemed to be getting at least a little better — talking more, genuinely smiling, laughing when Yata fell off his skateboard. It helped their little family of HOMRA feel safe; after all, if Mikoto wasn’t happy, none of them were.

That’s when Izumo decided to look down at what Mikoto was holding in his hand.

Pills, about the size of an eraser, sat in his palm. Red on one side and blue on the other, there were definitely more than any recommended dose; there had to be at least fifty of them. Izumo’s heart dropped cold in his chest. Now that he was closer, he could see Mikoto faintly smiling, eyes on the ground, holding the pills as if they were some sort of toy.

He doesn’t know how it’s possible that he didn’t see the empty, orange pill bottle on Mikoto’s dresser before now. The label had been torn off, and Izumo wasn’t even sure if they were prescribed to Mikoto in the first place. He’d never seen the man take more than a cough drop when they were teenagers to get over a nasty cold, so this...

Izumo snapped out of his train of thought, forcing the smile to stay on his face as looked down at his best friend — his best friend who had very, very dark thoughts on his mind.

“Hey, boss.” Izumo said in his normal calm tone, despite how scared he felt. He held his left hand out in front of Mikoto’s face, offering him the drink. “Sounded to me like you could use some company. 

Mikoto in an almost practiced lazy manner, looked at the drink and then up at Izumo, he then with his free hand took the glass from him and brought it to his lips. He barely noticeably paused for a second before parting his lips and tilting his head back, drinking an unusually small amount than his usual.

He glanced back at Izumo for a half second, not even bothering to try and hide the pills.

"So what are doing you up at a time like this?" He says in a deep and bored voice. For a second he looks slightly concerned and continues. "Anna didn't wake up or something did she?"

"No, nothing like that, just couldn't sleep and wanted a drink is all," Izumo said with a slight chuckle.

"That's good." Mikoto took another small swig of his drink. 

"She was out like a light, you shoulda seen the little angel, all tuckered out yet still clutching tight to the bear you got her." At this Mikoto did manage a small half smile, but it was gone as quick as it came.

"Do you ever think about what you're life would have been like if you had only made a few small changes?" The question caught Izumo off guard but he did his best to hide it.

"Come on boss, you know better than to ask whether any of us here at homra think," Izumo knew better than to let Mikoto's mind wander into that territory, although by the looks of it it's a bit to little to late.

Mikoto simply rolled his eyes and let out a gruff noise that might have been a laugh.

"Your right, how foolish of me for assuming you lot are even capable of using your brains," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Izumo shook his head with his own small laugh as he sat on the edge of the bed next to Mikoto. Despite the warm Summer air flowing through the room from the open window, Mikoto’s signature jacket stayed on snugly. His face was pale — it was gradually getting paler as the days, weeks, months went on. Izumo took a sip of his drink.

“You know, Rikio said something about going to catch a movie tomorrow with Yata and Anna. That sound like a plan to you.”

Mikoto’s face held some sort of contemplation for a moment, as if Izumo had just asked him a hard question. Finally, after a moment of seemingly pondering, Mikoto sighed.

“Can’t make any promises,” He rubber his thumb over one of the pills, and Izumo pretending his heart wasn’t pounding through his chest. “Besides, don’t you gotta run the bar tomorrow?”

“A day off wouldn’t hurt.” Izumo brought his hand up to Mikoto’s shoulder, clapping and holding there firmly. Mikoto tensed, but nothing more, which Izumo saw as a good sign. “It’ll be fun. You can get Anna a whole bunch of candy and soda and let her throw it all up on Yata later.”

It brought a laugh from Mikoto — gruff and raspy from smoking, but more than he had gotten in a while. Despite the way his lips stayed curled upwards, his eyes continued to be downcast, and his hands still fiddled with the pills. He took another small swing of his drink before nodding, as if thinking the plan over.

“Not a bad idea. You always were a smart man, Izu.” He downed his drink all at once, not even wincing at the burning behind his throat, then slammed the glass down onto the dresser, right by the empty bottle of pills. “A very smart man, indeed.”

"If I wasn't homra would be in shambles, or maybe it'd be just fine, who knows." Mikoto gave him a pointed look.

"We both know damn well homra wouldn't last ten minutes without you keeping those kids out of trouble." At this Izumo gave him a softer smile and lowered his sunglasses to properly look his king in the eyes. Mikoto only glared back and took Izumo's drink from him and took a large gulp from it. "Shut up."

Izumo gave a genuine laugh in response and held up one hand in mock surrender while the other nervously scratched the back of his head.

"Tough crowd."

Mikoto rolled his eyes again and let out a soft snort but tried to cover it by taking another drink from Izumo's glass, who in return couldn't stop the large smile on his face. 

Izumo then hopped up on over the covers of Mikoto's bed and layed down. 

"Do you mind if I stay here for the night? I seemed to have had to much to drink," he said looking at his drink in Mikoto's hand. 

"Bullshit, " Mikoto muttered fondly. 

"So? What do you say?"

Mikoto gave Izumo another look, to which the grinning bastard merely winked. The king scoffed, discarding the rest of the drink on the nightstand right next to the empty glass, and stuffing the handful of pills into his pocket. In a swift motion, he laid next to Izumo, eyes staring up at the ceiling momentarily before softly closing. He clasped his hands on his stomach and sighed contently at the comfortable bed.

“...Is that a yes?” Izumo asked after a moment, propped up on his elbows to look at Mikoto eye-to-eye, trying to suppress a laugh. Mikoto opened his eyes once more, a little smirk on his face, and nudged Izumo with his elbow.

“Well, I haven’t kicked you out yet, have I?”

Izumo laid back down, mirroring Mikoto’s own position. He’d never noticed before, but in the still of the night, Mikoto’s room smelled more of something sweet and spicy all at once — not cigarettes and alcohol, like anyone would expect. He closed his eyes as well. “Didn’t think you would.”

Mikoto drummed his fingers on his chest in a rhythm. He hummed, sarcastically suspicious. “What makes ya say that?”

It was Izumo’s turn to look over at Mikoto, and, to his surprise, Mikoto slowly turned his way as well. Staring into his eyes hadn’t always been as complicated as this — when they were just best friends, it was different. Now, it was king and clansmen. Still, it brought a sense of comfort to the bartender, knowing Mikoto trusted him enough to look at him, not just through him, like he did with most people. “Maybe I spend too much time around you. I’m starting to know you pretty well.”

Mikoto hummed once more, eyes half-lidded as they always were. He shifted, and the small rattling of pills from his jacket pocket was heard. Holding a hand up and taking the bridge of Izumo’s sunglasses in between his fingers, he slowly slipped them off. 

“Gotta ask; what makes you so attached to these things?”

Izumo chuckled at the red heads actions. 

"Well sometimes I don't want to see the shenanigans those idiots do in my bar."

"Does it work?" 

"Absolutely not."

The two shared a laughed for a moment before calming down and enjoying the peaceful silence that had now taken over the room and for a moment Izumo could forget what happened when he came here, he could forget what thoughts had been circling Mikoto's mind like sharks, and he could forget that he had been largely to blame for things getting this bad.

He could have mentioned something sooner, he could have tried harder. He knew what things were like for Mikoto but he'd tricked himself into thinking things were getting better. 

But for now, in this moment, he could pretend he hadn't failed Mikoto.

With his sunglasses in Mikoto’s hand, Izumo had no intentions of taking them back, especially with the way Mikoto was looking at him now.

What had once been a moment between two best friends, a king and a clansmen, was now more. Mikoto gently set the sunglasses down in between them and, with the same hand that had been once filled with pills that he had intended to down and sleep without the chance of waking up, cupped Izumo’s cheek, a thumb brushing his soft skin.

Though they’d never been this close, never held their breaths in this way, it somehow felt familiar to Izumo — not in a way that he’d done any of this before, but in a way that if he had, it would have left him with a feeling of warmth from deep within, with good memories.

Mikoto leaned in and, all at once, as their lips connected, time seemed to stop. The kiss was chaste, but it held a lot behind it — it was as if Izumo could feel all of the pain that Mikoto trapped inside of him releasing itself into something less destructive, something more beautiful. Mikoto’s red had always been a bright flame, but now, he could truly understand it.

After a moment, they parted from each other, and Izumo couldn’t help but smile once more. Mikoto’s hand fell from his cheek and traveled down until it clasped his hand gently, knowing that Izumo wasn’t going anywhere.

The silence fell over the room again, and, for a second, as they both laid back, fingers intertwined and breathing evening out, Izumo was almost positive that Mikoto had fallen asleep. That was, until—

“Izumo?”

Izumo cocked a brow as he looked at Mikoto; eyes shut, a little smile on his face. Still pale, still tired, but all in all, still warm. Still there. Still alive. “Hmm?”

Mikoto seemed to relax at Izumo’s voice as he gently squeezed his hand. “...Thank you.”

Izumo couldn’t help the little laugh he gave as he turned his head back to the ceiling, watching the moonlight illuminate it in a way he hadn’t noticed before now.

He gently squeezed back.

“Any time, Suoh.”


End file.
